Bamford Edge

With a decent weather report Andy and I set off to Bamford Edge in the Peak District, despite my concerns about how short it was. We'd both managed to avoid the sentence in the guidebook that read something like "climbing can be impossible here is the cold wind" and it's something we suffered with all day. As my first day's climbing of the year goes it will probably sum up my climbing for the rest of the year. Andy brought not only his crampons but also an ice screw by mistake to the crag and we also managed to run out of gas for my jetboil after only one small cup of tea. Not a good start.

But that almost didn't matter! It was bitterly cold on the walk-in, which is short and sweet thankfully. The ground underfoot made very little sound as it was soft and wet, unless we walked though the small amount of snow that was left behind and all you could hear was a faint crunch. The crag itself was lit up by the winter sun and it hung low in the sky. I don't think I could have asked for much more and as I walked in I thought about how nice it would be just to carry on walking, not stopping to climb but just carry on walking and enjoying being outside. 

However, we did stop, as we must because of that stupid little thing driving us on to go climbing, pushing on to spend a day freezing cold at a lonely gritstone edge. We had encamped at the base of Neb Buttress and I gear up for the first route of the day The Happy Wanderer, which I thought had got a fantastic name. As it happens the route doesn't wander around all over the place but takes an arete instead. It's quite a clean and obvious line when you're standing at the bottom of it. Needless to say it was much harder than I expected! In the end Andy didn't managed to second it (something about the cold etc) so I abseiled back down my own line.


Andy was up next with Bamford Buttress (severe). He took his time, as it was bloody cold and he making sure he didn't fall off. On seconding the route I had a very rude awakening. I'd been watching him "faff" around trying out lots of different footholds. As far as I could see there wasn't any difficulty from below but then again I wasn't on the sharp end. When I did get on it I realised I'd judge Andy unfairly while I was belaying. I then proceeded to struggle to the top.


By this point the kettle had been put back on (only to run out of gas!) while Andy and I decided to go for an epic free-solo (check out all my American terms) of the Deep Cleft (graded Mod or Diff). I opted for the diff exit as I still had my rack on and squeezing out og the top of a tight chimney didn't seem like fun. Andy went for the full troglodicious experience heading for the Mod. He told me after ward about how the final chimney was so tight, as he exited his trousers were pulled down round his ankles! I wish I'd been there to see him exit.


On finding out the gas was gone we shared a cup of tea, without tea or milk (or heat) and I lead Reach (VS 4c). The guidebook description and name were bang on as mostly the climb was reach, with several long moves and cool mantelshelves. In fact the last move was probably the hardest but most satisfying. By this point we we're pretty cold and I could tell Andy wanted to head off. I suggested that we do one final route and started checking the guidebook. After a few suggestions, one of which got the reply "you'll have a hard time cleaning that on abseil" I decided on something straight up and simple. I lead Bamford Rib (HVS 5a), which was a really cool little route. The holly bush mentioned in the guidebook has certainly got bigger, which mean you cannot rest on the ledge, but it doesn't change the grade. When I did top out Andy called up to me to strip it out on abseil, as he was too cold to climb, Fair game I suppose.


As the light was getting low in the sky I choose to solo Bamford Buttress (HS 4a). I like soloing on the gritstone outcrops and always like to wait until the light is right or it's near the end of the day. I don't know why I enjoy the experience so much but I do. The feeling of freedom and ease of movement across the grit is something that really pleases me. I also like the fact that it's a choice not to place gear or do the route in the safer style but rather to rely on myself not to freak out or get too hung up on it.